


Whipped, Extra Cream

by grey2510



Series: Pour Some Sugar on Dean (In the Name of Love) [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Canon Universe, Canonverse Cafe Not-AU, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Innuendo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: Ever since Gabe's been trying to sort out Heaven, he hasn't hadn't much time off. So when he finally gets a moment to himself, where better to go than the café Cassie runs with Deano and Crowls?
Relationships: Castiel/Crowley/Dean Winchester
Series: Pour Some Sugar on Dean (In the Name of Love) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1167176
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	Whipped, Extra Cream

**Author's Note:**

> This can mostly be read as a stand-alone fic. All you need to know is what's in the summary: Dean retired from hunting to open a café with Cas and Crowley sometime post-s13. And Gabe's not dead. :)

"Heyo!" Gabriel trilled as he waltzed into the café, arms wide. He received little more than a huff and an eye roll from ol' Deano, but screw him. Well, not really. That was his baby brother's job. Gabriel was a damn delight and if the eldest Winchester didn't know that by now, then he was a loster cause than even an archangel could save.

At least the aforementioned baby brother looked up from the espresso machine and gave him a welcoming smile. "Gabriel," he said. "I'll be right with you."

Magnanimously, Gabriel held up a hand, "No rush, Cassie. I'll get an iced double mocha frap when you get a chance." He sidled up to the register and winked at Dean. "Whipped. Extra cream."

Another eye roll. "How long you been holding on to that one?"

"A _long_ time," he answered, drawing out the word obnoxiously. He waggled his brows. "Why, Dean, is delayed gratif—"

" _Gabriel_ ," Castiel hissed, eyeing the two customers he was currently preparing drinks for, who were clearly listening in while trying to appear like they weren't doing just that.

"Fiiiine." He turned back to Dean and eyed the display case. "Throw in some of those raspberry turnovers will ya? Ooh and are those caramel brownies? Coupla those, too. And this is on Sammy-boy's tab still, right?"

"Nope," Dean said with a little too much glee. "Sam's still working off his own tab. And unless Heaven's makeover means the streets really are paved with gold…"

"You guys are no fun." But, he did pull out some twenties from his pocket, stuffing one into the tip jar because he's an amazing sibling who just wants the best for this little brother and his in-laws. So what if they hadn't existed until a few seconds ago—the U.S. Mint ain't got nothing on archangel grace.

Speaking of helping out the family business… Now that he had Heaven in order, he figured he should really make sure everything down here was running smoothly. He generally tried to overlook the fact that this essentially meant the former King of Hell was family, but then again, considering the weird shit he'd seen hanging with the Norse gods…what was a reformed now-human demon or two among friends? Besides, Crowley had been the one who had suggested the whole "scrap the individual heavens and let the souls power Heaven" idea. So it was really only fair that Gabriel returned the favor.

Aaand speak of the...demon. Damn Luci for ruining a perfectly good phrase, may the giant bag of dicks rest in not-peace.

"I thought I heard your dulcet tones," Crowley said, wiping his hands on a towel as he leaned in the doorway. "What have we done to deserve the honor of your presence?"

"Not a thing. You're just lucky, I guess."

Cas finished making his beverage with a veritable mountain of whipped cream on top and handed it to him at the same time Dean finished ringing up the order and putting his baked deliciousness in a bag.

"To go bag, huh? Kicking me out already?" He took a sip of his drink through the straw, then dragged the straw out to get some of the whipped cream stuck on it. He could have made a real show of it but figured he was treading on thin ice already. Besides, his current audience wouldn't appreciate his talents—something something pearls and swine.

"Well, you're a busy archangel, aren't you? Wouldn't want to inconvenience you." Dean crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter along the wall dividing the front of the house from the kitchen.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and looked around the place. There was a couple in their twenties or thirties over by the window, and a high school kid with a laptop in the back corner. Other than that, the place was pretty empty. "Looks like you guys could be busier. I wouldn't be so quick to turn away business, sweetie."

Dean _hrmphed_ at the 'sweetie'. Castiel sighed while Crowley glared.

"We do just fine, thanks," Cas said finally. "You just missed the weekly book group."

The three of them shared an amused look at the mention of the book group, but Gabriel wasn't in the mood for deciphering that one. So instead, he pulled one of the turnovers from his bag, took a big bite, and said through the mouthful, "Well, Crowls, you never fail to impress." It was true: the raspberry filling was a perfect balance of tart and sweet. He toasted them with the remains of the pastry. "Woulda thought you'd be going all extreme cakes or something by now, though."

"It's a small town café, not an absurd excuse for culinary showmanship," the ex-demon retorted.

"That cocktail cake you made was pretty good, though." Dean reached over to gently chuck him on the arm. "I coulda eaten that whole thing myself. Too bad we don't get much call for you to show off like that."

"Thought you weren't supposed to sample your own product." Gabriel wagged an accusing finger at them.

"That's drugs, you twit." And with that Crowley retreated to the kitchen, but Gabriel didn't miss the silent thank you he gave Dean on the way by.

Cas gave Gabriel a pained look.

"What? What'd I say?"

"The cake was—"

"None of his bloody business!" Crowley called from the kitchen.

"None of your bloody business, apparently," Cas echoed lamely and with a hint of apology, though Gabriel wasn't sure if it was for him or the sulky ex-demon.

"Tetchy." He brushed crumbs off his jacket. "Well, I should get out of your way. Unless Rowena's kicking around…"

"She's with Sam. Alone." Dean pushed himself off the counter. "Sorry."

He didn't sound too sorry.

"Ah well, better luck next time. Can't blame a guy for trying." He popped a whole brownie in his mouth, which he kind of regretted because the caramel, while absolutely delicious, was thick and sticky and therefore made for a difficult parting speech. "Toodles," he said, sort of.

And with a snap of his fingers, he was back in Heaven. His corner of it, anyway. Just because the humans weren't living on their own private islands didn't mean he had to live among the unwashed masses.

He grinned at his companions lounging on the lavish furniture, even if they were just constructs. "Ladies," he announced while also conjuring up a can of whipped cream, "who's ready for dessert?"

* * *

Time was kind of irrelevant inside the Pearly Gates, but even Gabriel was a bit surprised how little passed before he got a very direct prayer from an all-too familiar source.

_"Gabriel, get your feathery ass down here or so help me I will bust into Heaven myself and—"_

"You know, Deano, with a tone of voice like that, you could make Mother of the Year. Surprised you didn't threaten to turn the car around, too."

Dean put down his hands from his wide-armed prayer stance. "What did you do?"

"Gonna have to be a little more specific there, toots." He hopped up on one of the tall stools by the front counter, nodding his hellos to Cassie, who was standing beside Dean looking less than impressed. Then again, that was generally how Cas looked, so maybe this was a good day for him.

From behind Dean, Crowley emerged holding a stack of order forms. "He means _these_." Reading them off one by one, he slammed them on the counter. "Bachelorette party request for a pink penis cake. Bachelor party request for a _rainbow_ penis cake. And this one, with its particular request to make the frosting on the whip and mask look as much like leather as possible."

Gabriel shrugged. "Dean said it was a shame you didn't get to do specialty cakes. Can't see why you've got your panties in a twist. 'Cept maybe for that last one, because they'd probably like that."

"We are not an adult bakery, you ass-hat!" Dean fumed.

"But you _could_ be." He looked between them with a big grin. "What? So I sent you a little business! Think of the fun you could have. Variety's the spice of life and all that."

"We didn't need any _spice_ , Gabriel," Cas countered. His eyes narrowed. "And how did you even send this business our way?"

"Well you know how it goes, you show up in the dream of some chick and say 'Be not afraid, for the Lord sayeth you shall have a penis cake if you go to a bakery in Lebanon, Kansas.'" For some reason none of them laughed. "It was just a couple of Yelp reviews here, a good angely vibe or two there."

"Bloody hell," Crowley spat. "We're going to be up to our eyeballs in phallic cakes by the end of the week."

"Never thought I'd hear you complain about that," Dean murmured, earning a glare from both of his partners. He frowned and turned back to Gabriel. "But that's not the point! Fucking fix this, Gabe."

"Alright, alright. On one condition."

"No," both Dean and Crowley barked out in unison.

Cas sighed. "What's your condition?"

Gabriel jerked a thumb at Cas. "See? Knew I could count on you, bro."

"I never said we would agree to your condition."

He shrugged. "Erase my tab, I'll erase the internet. The relevant parts at least. There's too much good stuff out there to erase it all. Deano knows what I'm talkin' about."

Dean just glared at him before grunting, "Fine. Tab's cleared. Fix our damn reviews and ads."

"No good deed goes unpunished, huh? Have it your way, I guess, even if that way is boring as all get out. Oh and condition two—"

"You said _one_ condition."

"—you fulfill the current three orders."

"Why?" Crowley frowned and his eyes narrowed, calculating. "What are you getting out of this?"

"Nothing. Just the thought of you making dick cakes is enough to warm the cockles of my heart."

"And demons get the bad rap," he groused. But, he nodded. "Agreed. I'll honor the orders, if only so we don't disappoint our patrons. And then you fuck off and leave us the hell alone."

"You got it." He slid off the stool and rapped a couple knuckles on the display case. "Two eclairs for the road and I'm out of your hair."

"Gabe, you son of a—"

He didn't catch the rest, but he didn't need to. With a snap of his fingers, he was back upstairs, two eclairs richer and a fresh-minted twenty poorer.

Not bad for a day's work.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Coldest Hits:  
> [Here was the prompt and rules](https://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/610889349848088576/april-2020-prompt-food-porn-posting-dates-april).


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